


The Cat and the Captain

by Longitudinalwave



Category: Batman (Comics), Catwoman (Comics), Superman (Comics), The Flash (Comics)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-28
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:54:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27753409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Longitudinalwave/pseuds/Longitudinalwave
Summary: Captain Cold and Catwoman get more than they bargained for when they join Lex Luthor's latest incarnation of the Legion of Doom.
Relationships: Roscoe Dillon/Lisa Snart
Comments: 2
Kudos: 2





	1. Catwoman

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dillonmania](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dillonmania/gifts), [Swashbuckler](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Swashbuckler/gifts).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Thanks for checking out my story! 
> 
> This is a strange, but hopefully good, little story, narrated by Catwoman and Captain Cold. The narrator of the chapter will be made clear by its title. 
> 
> It doesn't fit anywhere into continuity, so feel free to pick whichever version of these characters you like.

Hello, there, darling. It’s so purr-fectly nice to have guests. My name is Selina Kyle, but you probably know me better as Catwoman, master cat burglar and protector of Gotham City’s East End (often affectionately called “Crime-Infested Nightmare Area”). Oh, don’t mind Isis. She doesn’t bite-much. I suppose you’re here to learn more about my little falling-out with the Legion of Doom (seriously, Luthor-melodramatic much?) Well, it all started about a month ago. I had just come home from a particularly exhausting jewelry store burglary when I was greeted by Mercy Graves, Lex Luthor’s henchwoman/bodyguard/chauffeur. 

“Hello, Miss Graves. What are you doing in my house?” I asked her calmly. She sniffed haughtily to express her disdain for her surroundings, and replied,

“Mr. Luthor wants to hire you for a project of his. He is willing to pay you six hundred thousand dollars for a job well done. He instructed me to inform you that should you accept the job, you should come to LexCorp Headquarters in Metropolis and ask for me, but in civilian clothing. He cannot have his reputation tarnished by being seen to associate with supervillains.” Normally, I would have refused the offer, as I have never been fond of Luthor, but since my savings account had been wiped out during the Riddler’s latest scheme (thanks a million, Eddie), I was rather hard up for cash, and could hardly turn down an offer of six hundred thousand dollars. 

“I accept. When does he want me to be there?” I said. 

“Tomorrow at eight AM sharp,” Mercy replied. I nodded. 

“Then I’ll see you both then,” I said. 

“I'll tell Mr. Luthor to expect your arrival.” With that, Mercy left my house. I took a fifteen minute cat nap and then bought a train ticket to Metropolis under the name Belinda Jones. Once that was accomplished, I met up with my friend Holly and told her to keep an extra close eye on the homeless kids we protect because I was going to be out of the city for awhile, fenced the jewelry I had stolen, beat up a guy who was threatening his girlfriend with a knife, and then boarded the train for Metropolis at 11 PM. An hour later, I had arrived in the Big Apricot. I paid for a night in a particularly nice hotel and woke up the next day at 6:30 AM. I got dressed in my best “professional business woman” clothes, ate a delicious breakfast in the hotel’s dining room, and then took a taxi to LexCorp HQ. As we drove through town, I marveled (not for the first time) at how bright, sunny, calm, and cheerful Metropolis is. Despite being only an hour away from Gotham, Metropolis is so different from my home that it might as well be on another planet. No muggings on every street corner, no addicts haggling for a lower price on “venom” (the super steroid Bane uses, for those of you who are unaware), no gunfire in the streets, little litter or graffiti-it’s surreal for a Gothamite. After a twenty-minute ride, I was dropped off at the door of the tallest building in Metropolis. I studied the building for all possible entrances and exits, and then went inside and walked up to the receptionist, an overworked looking man. 

“I’m here to meet with Miss Graves,” I said. He must have had at least some knowledge of Luthor’s dealings, because he didn’t ask me for authorization or anything. Instead, he just nodded and said,

“She’s on the hundredth floor.” I thanked him and took the elevator to that floor. When the doors opened, I was greeted by Mercy. 

“You’re punctual. Mr. Luthor appreciates that,” she said. I nodded, and she took me down the hall and to a door that read “ Lex Luthor, CEO “  in large letters. Mercy knocked on the door, and it was opened by none other than the bald wonder himself. 

“Miss Kyle. It’s a pleasure to see you. I trust your trip went well,” he said. To a normal person, he would have sounded charming and concerned, but I knew from experience that it was all an act. He didn’t care a thing about my well-being. 

“It did. So, what exactly does a multi-billionaire inventor like you need from a jewel thief?” I replied. Luthor smiled.

“I’ll explain that in good time, my dear. For now, I’m still waiting on several people who are less punctual than you are, so sit down and relax,” he said. He led me to a chair that was upholstered in Corinthian leather. I sat down primly. Luthor clapped his hands, and a young woman ran in. 

“What would you like to drink, madam?” she asked. 

“Milk, please,” I replied. Then she turned to Luthor.

“The usual, girl,” he replied, She nodded and ran off, then returned with a glass of milk and a cup full of fine wine. I took my glass of milk and smiled at the girl.

“Thank you,” I said. She smiled and disappeared once more. Once she was gone, I looked around the room and saw that I was not alone. Also sitting in Luthor’s office were John Corben, better known as Metallo, Malcolm Merlyn, better known as the Dark Archer, the magician Felix Faust, Barbara Ann Minerva, better known as the Cheetah, Ra’s al Ghul (I was surprised to see him, as he usually doesn’t team up with other villains), Slade Wilson, better known as Deathstroke the Terminator, and Richard Swift, better known as the Shade. Shade nodded at me to acknowledge my presence, and I waved at him. 

“Nice group you have here, Mr. Luthor,” I said. 

“I’m glad you think so, Miss Kyle,” Luthor replied. With that, he walked over to Faust and started talking to him about some sort of hocus-pocus. I turned to Swift. 

“What are you doing here? I thought you hated Lex Luthor,” I asked him. 

“I do, but I thought that this latest proposition of his sounded intriguing. Why are you here? Unless I’m mistaken, you have no love lost for the man either,” he replied.

“I’m here because Eddie Nygma accidentally wiped out my savings account when he hijacked the computer of Gotham City’s First National Bank. I need Luthor’s money to keep my apartment, among other things,” I explained. 

“That is most unfortunate, Miss Kyle. I express my deepest condolences,” he replied. I couldn’t tell if he was being sincere or just trying to gain my trust. You never can tell with Richie Swift. However, before our conversation could continue, we were interrupted by the arrival of one of the last people I ever would have expected Lex Luthor to hire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks for reading.


	2. Captain Cold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Introducing the Master of Absolute Zero!

To make a long story very, very short, Luthor’s hot bodyguard showed up at my house and told me that Lex Luthor would pay me 10,000 dollars if I showed up at his place and promised to do a favor for him, so I agreed to show up at LexCorp at 8 AM the next day in regular clothes. I put Scudder in charge of the Rogues, bought a train ticket, and then took an 8-hour train ride to Metropolis. If all my cash didn’t go to paying for food, electricity, plumbing, and clothing for ten people, I would have taken a plane, but I ain’t that lucky, so instead I ended up on a seemingly never-ending train ride sandwiched in between an old fat guy who snored like a buzzsaw and a really stressed out mom with a wailing baby. Also, there was a kid seated behind me and he kept kicking my seat. I was tempted to freeze all three of them until the train ride ended, but I had been ordered to keep a low profile, so instead I ended up rocking the baby to sleep to get a little peace and quiet. (If you tell ANYONE about that, you will learn what it feels like to be a human icicle.) Once I got off the train, I spent the night in a really cruddy hotel. The next morning I woke up at 7, hastily ate a bowl of terrible cereal, and took a taxi to LexCorp-only to get stuck in traffic. The end result was that I walked into Luthor’s office twenty minutes late.

“You’re late, Mr. Snart,” Luthor said.

“I got stuck in traffic,” I replied. I was already in a bad mood and didn’t feel like apologizing for something that hadn’t been my fault. I pushed past him and sat down on one of his chairs-and realized two things. First, I was not alone. Luthor had hired a bunch of other supervillains besides me. And second, I was badly underdressed. I was wearing a blue jacket, a t-shirt, a pair of blue jeans, and my only pair of boots that aren’t a part of my supervillain costume. Everyone else was in tuxedos, pantsuits (Catwoman), or formal gowns (Cheetah), and I felt my cheeks heat up a bit. Looking like you’re going to clean out your bathroom when everyone else looks like they’re going to a wedding is kinda embarrassing.

“What’s he doing here? Isn’t he one of those clowns from Central City?” Metallo asked. I scowled and pulled out my cold gun, then pointed it at him.

“From Central City, yeah. Clown, no,” I said angrily. 

“Captain Cold?” Cheetah asked.

“Yep. The Master of Absolute Zero,” I replied. Deathstroke turned to Luthor. 

“Luthor, I thought that you told me that you were putting together a team of SUPERvillains, the men-and women-who are at the top of their profession. What’s Cold doing here?  He’s a thug with a glorified snow machine. Who else is gonna be on this team? Kite Man? Condiment King?” he said. I swung around and pointed my gun at him instead. 

“You want a taste of this “glorified snow machine”, Deathstroke?” I snapped. (In hindsight, this wasn’t my brightest idea.) In response, Deathstroke grabbed my gun arm, punched me in the stomach with his other hand, and then froze my right leg with my own gun. Metallo and Cheetah laughed, and I swore loudly, which just made them laugh even harder. 

“What were you saying about not being a clown, Snart?” Metallo asked me. I spat at him. 

“Mr. Luthor, I was under the impression that this was a serious meeting. If I was mistaken, I will be taking my leave,” an old guy who looked and sounded vaguely Middle Eastern said. 

“Mr. al Ghul, I assure you that this is a serious meeting. Although some of my recruits seem to have forgotten this, they are all trained professionals,” Luthor replied. Then he turned to Deathstroke, Cheetah, Metallo, and me and frowned.

“Gentlemen, stop squabbling amongst yourselves. Mr. Snart is admittedly a bit rough around the edges, but he is very good at what he does, and we have use for him. Mr. Faust, can you unfreeze his legs, please?” he said smoothly. An old guy in funky robes waved his hands around, and a beam of purple light shot out of his hands and melted the ice around my leg. I grabbed my gun back from Deathstroke and sat down. A few seconds later, he, Metallo, and Cheetah did the same, the latter two still snickering at me. I glared at them as Luthor made his way to the center of the room

“I’m so pleased you were all able to make it to our meeting today. Before we continue, however, I would like to introduce you all to my new partner, Mr. Raish al Ghul,’ he began. The Middle Eastern-looking man stood up and interrupted him.

“It is Raaz al Ghul, not Raish al Ghul, Mr. Luthor, and, for those of you who have not met me, my name is spelled R-A-apostrophe-s capital A-l capital G-h-u-l. It is Arabic for “the Demon’s Head”. I am the leader of the League of Shadows, a vast international organization. You may address me as Mr. al Ghul if it is more convenient. I am Mr. Luthor’s equal and you will respond to my orders just as you would respond to orders coming from him,” he said. Luthor scowled. Apparently, he wasn’t happy with Mr. al Ghul showing him up. Catwoman also looked unhappy, but at the time I wasn’t sure why.

“AS I WAS SAYING, Mr. al Ghul and I are partners, though I would like you to note that it was he who sought me out and not the other way around. We have gathered you here today for one very simple plan: to defeat the Justice League once and for all,” Luthor said. Catwoman and I both frowned and raised our hands. 

“Yes, Ms. Kyle?” Luthor asked. 

“When you say “defeat”, do you mean “kill”?” she asked. 

“Not necessarily. Most likely, we’ll simply depower them. Mr. Snart?” he replied.

“If we kill them or depower them or whatever, who’s gonna save Earth from the next alien invasion? Only, like, two of us have superpowers,” I asked. 

“I’ll come up with something. I am renowned for my genius, after all-and Mr. al Ghul and Felix Faust are quite capable in their respective fields as well. Earth doesn’t need aliens to protect it,” Luthor replied. 

“What about the non powered heroes, like Batman and Green Arrow? What do you plan to do with them?” Shade asked. The Dark Archer nodded in agreement. 

“Shade is right, Mr. Luthor. You can’t take away powers they don’t have, and they’re just as formidable as the rest of the League,” he said. 

“That, my dear Mr. Merlyn, is simple. I know for a fact that Green Arrow is Oliver QUeen, the Mayor of Star City, and Mr. al Ghul has told me that Batman is in reality Bruce Wayne. If we destroy their finances, we destroy their ability to stop us,” Luthor replied. Catwoman’s scowl deepened while I tried to figure out where I’d heard the name “Bruce Wayne” before. 

“Wait...you don’t mean Batman’s that drunken playboy who’s always in the tabloids, do you?” I asked incredulously after the answer finally hit me. 

“I do indeed. It appears that his public routine is nothing more than a diversion to keep people from suspecting that he is the Dark Knight,” Luthor replied. 

“In other words, your plan is for us to steal the power and wealth of the Justice League so that we may conduct our affairs unopposed?” Shade asked.

“Exactly,” Luthor replied. 

“I’m disappointed in you, Mr. Luthor. I was under the impression that you had come up with an original way for us to best our foes. This idea is nothing more than an overused cliché-and besides, I don’t want the Justice League to be permanently depowered. Without them to match my wits against, my life would be dull,” Shade said. 

“Maybe you like being bested by superpowered freaks at every turn, Shade, but I hate it. I say we put Luthor’s plan into action as soon as possible,” Deathstroke replied. 

“Yes, yes! I want nothing more than to see Wonder Woman die!” Cheetah agreed. Luthor smiled indulgently at her. Her exclamation prompted everybody to start talking over each other, and the racket was only stopped when Luthor clapped his hands and loudly cleared his throat. 

“Gentlemen, gentlemen, calm down! We will have plenty of time to discuss this later. For now, I would like to dismiss you all from this meeting and allow you to enjoy my hospitality,” he said. His bodyguard lady handed out hotel room keys to everyone and then returned to her seat. Mine said “Floor 45, room 2.” 

“Are we dismissed, then?” Shade asked, sounding bored. 

“You are dismissed,” Luthor replied. With that, everyone made a rush to the elevators. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have entered the dreaded Ra's al Ghul pronunciation debate! If you prefer the other pronunciation, tell me in the comments below and, if more than two people agree that I should change it to the other way around, I will. 
> 
> As always, thanks for reading!


	3. Catwoman

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Captain Cold has many skills. Flirting is not one of them (much to Catwoman's dismay).

When I stepped off the elevator on the 45th floor, I was surprised to find that I was not alone. I had seen the room keys of almost everyone, and no two people had had rooms on the same floor-but it seemed the man Luthor had called “Mr. Snart’” and I were the exception to that rule (much to my irritation). Clearly, he was just as surprised by seeing me as I was by seeing him, as his mouth dropped open when I stepped out of the elevator. 

“You’re on the same floor as me?” he asked.

“It seems that way, Mr. Snart. I'm in room 1. What about you?” I asked. 

“Across the hall. Room 2. And call me Cold. I hate the name Snart,” he replied. (As stupid as I think calling other supervillains by their code names when we’re not in costume is, I could hardly blame him for not wanting to be called “Snart”.) I nodded and opened the door to my room, only to scowl in annoyance and disappointment. Luthor had told me that it was a hotel room, but it looked more like the two-room slum apartment I lived in with my parents before they died. If I hadn’t needed Luthor’s paycheck so badly, I would have walked out right then and there, but, circumstances being what they were, I decided to assess just how bad the room was and hope that I’d overreacted. Unfortunately, a closer examination of the room revealed one moth-eaten chair, one annoying fluorescent light bulb (and no other lighting), a nasty-looking bathroom that clearly hadn’t been cleaned in quite a while, more cobwebs than in a haunted house, a dirty-looking bed with thin sheets, and a small army of rats. Was this Luthor’s way of putting me “in my place”, or was it just a way to punish me for questioning him? Either way, it was clear that I was not going to enjoy my time working for him. Cold came into my room about five minutes after I entered it and said,

“So, your room is crappy too, huh?” I frowned.

“Would it kill you to knock?” I asked him. He grinned sheepishly.

“Sorry, Miss Kyle,” he replied. The dopey expression on his face made it clear that he was attracted to me, so I decided to shut him down.

“I’m not interested in you, so don’t ask,” I said. He smiled wider. 

“I wasn’t going to, ma’am,” he replied. I smiled back in mild amusement. Mr. Snart was apparently rather old-fashioned when it came to flirting.

“Good. Now sit down, and we can complain about our rooms,” I said, gesturing to the moth-eaten chair. Cold crossed the room and sat down, then remarked,

“You know, I didn’t think anything could top the cruddy motel room that I stayed in last night, but these rooms have it beat-and I've gotta admit, I’m angry about that. When I got a hotel key from a billionaire, I was expecting something a little closer to the Ritz than to Skid Row.” 

“Tell me about it. I’ve stayed in jail cells that were more homey than this,” I said. 

“Do you think everyone’s rooms are this terrible?” he asked. 

‘Probably not. First of all, he’d have to be really stupid to give a bad room to a magician like Felix Faust, a woman with low-level super speed, fangs, and claws like Cheetah, a man with as many resources as Ra’s al Ghul, or a ex-military hitman like Deathstroke, and Luthor isn’t stupid. Second, he’s got the two of us on a leash that none of the others are on. Unlike them, we can’t just walk out, because we’re broke and need the money to stay off the streets. He gave us these so-called rooms as a way to rub his control over us into our faces,” I replied bitterly.

“How’d you know I was broke?” Cold asked. 

‘Because you support a team of ten people, for one, and because you’re wearing an old t-shirt with food stains on it, a jacket that’s losing its hood, ripped jeans, and boots that are clearly too small for you, for two. If you had other clothes besides your Captain Cold getup, you’d certainly be wearing them, but you’re not. And, while we’re on the topic, what happened to your other clothes?” I replied. 

“Well, you see, someone who shall remain nameless decided to spend a good deal of last week’s grocery money to buy yo-yos, bubble gum, and rubber chickens, and if we ran out of food, somebody would have ended up murdered. Normally, I would’ve taken grocery money out of his pay, but he’d already spent it all, so I ended up pawing my other, less terrible looking clothes to make enough money to buy the groceries,’ he explained, clearly embarrassed. I felt a pang of sympathy for the man, as crude and annoying as he was (and is). 

“I’ve been there,” I replied, only to groan when I realized that this would compromise my persona as a wealthy, intelligent socialite and businesswoman. 

“What would a socialite need to pawn her clothes for?” he asked. I sighed. It was too late to cover my mistake up now.

‘Because I wasn’t always Gotham City’s most mysterious debutante. I was born in a slum in Central City’s East End. By the time I was ten, my parents had both killed themselves and I was put into foster care. I ran away at 12 and I pawned clothing more than once to make ends meet. It wasn’t until I was twenty-one that I succeeded in my first big heist and joined Gotham’s high society. I may be a success, but at heart I’m an East Ender, and I always will be. And if you tell anyone about that, I will hunt you down and beat you to a pulp,” I explained. 

“Don’t worry, ma’am. I ain’t gonna tell anybody. It ain’t like they would ever believe me if I told them that Catwoman was from a slum,” he replied. 

“Good. Now, since I told you about me, it’s only fair that you tell me about you. Is pawning clothes new to you?” I asked. Even if he wasn’t planning to tell anyone about my past, I wanted to get information on him if he had information on me. Having insurance is always good. I smiled brightly and batted my eyes a bit, and, sure enough, he willingly gave me what I needed.

“Been doing it since I was seven years old. I’m trailer trash. My mom walked out on us when I was five, and my old man was worse than absent, so I had to raise myself and my little sister on whatever welfare money dear old dad didn’t spend on booze,” he told me. He made it sound like a joke, but I could tell that he didn’t find it funny. 

“Can I ever relate. My father drank so much he drank himself into an early grave,” I said emotionlessly. I had no time to waste on self-pity or bad memories, and I didn’t want to show too much weakness to the not-so-good Captain. Luckily for me (and probably for him as well), our conversation about our personal lives was interrupted by a rat jumping onto my bed. 

“Do you want me to take care of the rats for you, Ms. Kyle? I already froze the ones in my room,” Cold asked. 

‘No, but I wouldn’t complain if you let me borrow your cold gun,” I replied, a bit annoyed at being treated as a helpless damsel. He shrugged and handed it to me. It was heavier than I had anticipated, but I still managed to use it to freeze all the rats, which I proceeded to unceremoniously throw out the window. Then I handed him back his cold gun. He swiftly re-holstered it and stood up. 

“I think I’ll be going back to my room now. I still gotta unpack my stuff. If you need me, you know where to find me,” he said. With that, he walked out of the room. I shut the door behind him and opened up my own suitcase, which contained three pantsuits, three dresses, some personal hygiene products, a bag of cat food (I never know when I might run into hungry strays) and an Agatha Christie novel. (What? Can’t I like a good detective story? They help me match wits with Batman..) Since I wasn’t about to let my nice things touch anything in that grimy room, so I decided to keep my things in my clean suitcase. A few seconds after I closed the suitcase, I heard a tiny “mew” coming from under the so-called bed. A quick investigation revealed that the rats weren’t the only animals that had been living in the room. A tiny kitten had been hiding under my bed!

“Hello, little one. Where did you come from?” I asked it. (Before you ask, no, I was not expecting a response. Just because I’m from Gotham does not mean I’m crazy.) I picked it up to get a closer look at it. Its fur was matted and it was so skinny that you could see its ribs. 

“Aww, you poor little thing!” I cooed. I got my hairbrush out of my suitcase, gingerly sat down on the “bed”, and started brushing the kitten’s fur. It squeaked, obviously not yet comfortable with me, but it did not bite me or try to escape. After a few minutes of brushing the kitten’s fur, it relaxed and started to purr. After I finished brushing it, I sat it down on the “bed” and got the bag of cat food out of my suitcase. I fed the kitten and then decided to take a tour of the LexCorp building. To this end, I left the room, locked the door behind me, walked to the elevator, and went down to the ground floor, where I grabbed a map of the building and began my tour. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks for reading.


	4. Captain Cold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Captain Cold puts his foot in his mouth. Repeatedly.

After I unpacked my stuff, I pulled out my cell phone and called Scudder to make sure that things hadn’t fallen apart in the 14-hour period that I had been gone. 

“Who is this?” Scudder asked.

“It’s Cold. I made it to Metropolis. How’re things in Central?” I replied. He sighed. 

“Never leave me alone with these people again,” he said wearily. 

“I guess that means that things ain’t going so hot?” I asked. 

“To put it mildly. They may respect my skill and intelligence, but they don’t listen to me like they do to you, Len,” he replied. 

“What happened?” I asked. 

“Captain Boomerang and Heat Wave got into a fistfight that destroyed the living room, and they’re both nursing wounds now. Your sister and the Top took the money for the plumbing and are on a date at Central City’s finest restaurant, Trickster made Weather Wizard angry at him and now Mardon’s chasing him around the house, and I found McCulloch in his room this morning, high as a kite and surrounded by cocaine packets. Piper’s behaving, though,” Sam replied. 

“I TOLD YOU TO KEEP AN EYE ON THEM!” I yelled. 

‘I just told you, they don’t listen to me,” Sam whined. 

“Well, find a way to make them! What were you doing to make things better when I called you?” I asked. How had my teammates managed to fall apart so rapidly in less than a day? 

“I was babysitting a Scotsman who’s having really annoying-and severe- withdrawal symptoms, that’s what. I destroyed the remainder of the drugs, but beyond that there’s not much I can do,” he explained. There was a pause, and then Scudder screamed, 

“EW! You stupid Glaswegian thug, I paid good money for that suit!” I groaned.

“What happened?” I asked, although I knew I didn’t want to know the answer. 

“McCulloch just puked all over me,” he replied, sounding like he was on the verge of tears. 

“I do nae feel so well, Captain,” McCulloch muttered weakly. 

“Well, you should have thought of that before you got back on cocaine,” I replied angrily. I made a mental note to punch him in the face when I got home. 

“Can you please come back and help me out?” Scudder asked. 

“You got yourself into this mess, Scudder. You can get yourself out of it,” I said firmly. Then I hung up on him, came up with a plan to get my house back in order as soon as I finished Luthor’s job, and turned my thoughts to more pleasant things, like Catwoman. I had been shocked to learn that we had so much in common, she was drop-dead gorgeous, her exploits as a thief were legendary, and she didn’t take any nonsense, so she would be a great help in controlling the idiots that I call teammates. She would make an excellent Rogue (and an excellent girlfriend) so I decided that I was going to woo her. To this end, I left the room, took the elevator to the ground floor, found the floor that the department store was on, and then took the elevator to that floor. Roughly an hour later, I left with a rose, a card, and a box of chocolate. (Sure, I’d probably end up having to either steal something or pawn more of my clothing-or my phone- to make up for the cost, but hey, if she fell for me, the benefits would far outweigh the costs.) Then I went back to my floor, signed the card, picked the lock on her door, and sat the gifts on the chair. I locked the door behind me and returned to my own room, where I discovered that Scudder had left at least two messages on my phone. I decided that I’d let him suffer for long enough and called him a second time. 

“Len?” he asked hopefully. 

“Yeah. It’s me. Tell everyone that all the money from our next heist is going into the funds for our food and plumbing and electricity and the mortgage-except the share that you and Piper get. If anyone complains, tell them that they have to do it for the next two jobs,” I replied. 

“Okay. Will do. Uh, one more question: How do I deal with an insane, detoxing McCulloch?” Scudder asked. 

“Knock him out and then lock him in the closet or something until he’s back to normal,” I replied. 

“McCulloch’s never normal,” Scudder said. I had to admit that he had a point. 

‘Normal for McCulloch,” I replied. 

“Are you sure that’ll work?” he asked.

“It worked the last time he was on drugs,” I replied. 

“Maybe it did, but here’s the thing, Len. You’re taller and heavier than he is, and you’ve gotten into your fair share of fistfights over the years. I’m shorter than him and only have two pounds on the guy, and while I’m not opposed to a little rough housing, I’m pretty dependent on my tech in fights. McCulloch’s more like you. He’s a brawler and has a mean punch when he’s sober-I really don’t want to find out how hard he punches when he’s in withdrawal,” Scudder said. 

“Then get Heat Wave to knock him out for you,” I replied. 

“That definitely won’t work. Heat Wave had his right arm sliced open by a boomerang earlier today. He won’t be fighting anyone for awhile,” Sam said weakly. I swore loudly.

“Then get Piper to hypnotize him,” I snapped. 

“Okay. That probably would work. Thanks,” Scudder replied. 

“Good luck,” I said. I hung up on him. Five minutes later, my phone rang again.

“What’s wrong NOW, Scudder?” I yelled. 

“Is that any way to talk to your baby sister, Lenny?” my sister asked. I flushed. 

“Sorry, baby sis. I thought you were Scudder. He’s called me four times over the last hour,” I explained. 

“Lenny, is it true that you’re not giving anybody their cut of the next heist?” she asked. I groaned. I had totally forgotten that my sister had been among the idiots who had caused things to fall apart. 

“Sis, I have to pay the bills somehow,” I replied. 

“So just make sure that we steal more stuff than usual in our next heist. That way, you can pay the bills, and we can still have our fun,” Lisa said. 

“Until someone decides to take the extra money that you suggest I use to cover the bills-which, by the way, is my share of our heists- to buy something idiotic like rare tops or beer or rubber chickens or fancy restaurants and galas full of people who think people like us are trash again,” I replied. 

“Lenny, don’t worry so much. We’ve never had any problems before when that happened,” she said. 

“Yeah, and you wanna know why? Because I’ve pawned my clothes and my nice TV and my decent lamp and my hockey stuff-my hockey stuff that I’ve spent YEARS trying to collect, mind you-to make ends meet! Why do you think I took this stupid job in the first place? It’s certainly ain’t because I like Lex Luthor! We’re broke, and if you guys don’t get your act together, we’re gonna be homeless by Christmas! Why I bother to keep you morons around is beyond me!” I yelled. There was an icy pause (yes, I know, it’s a terrible pun). 

“You sound just like Lewis,” Lisa spat. The words felt like a punch to the gut. 

“Well, you’re acting like him! You expect me to do all the work just like he did!” I snapped back. 

“Why do you have to be such a control freak?” Lisa asked. 

“I’m no worse than your boyfriend. I doubt you’d complain if HE asked you to stop spending your money so recklessly, but me? I’m just your big brother. It doesn’t matter what you dump on me, because I’m family, is that right? I’m your older brother, so of course I have to sacrifice everything I want and need to support you and your crazy boyfriend, regardless of whether you listen to a word I say. I’ve spent my entire life taking care of you, and you reward me by spending all my money with your lunatic boytoy?” I snapped. 

‘Don’t talk about Roscoe that way! He might be weird, but at least he respects my intelligence and independence, unlike certain others I could name! You treat me like a child-or more accurately, like a pampered cat. You’ve never once seen me as an equal or as capable-you think I’m still some helpless five-year-old who needs to be protected from the world! Well, I’m an adult-an adult who’s as dangerous as you! You should respect me, not treat me like a porcelain doll!” Lisa yelled. I felt a pang of guilt (shocking, I know). She was more accurate than I would have liked to admit. 

“Lisa, I’m sorry,” I said. 

“It’s a bit late for that now, Lenny,” Lisa replied coldly, and my anger flared. 

“That’s rich, coming from someone whose birth forced me to become an adult at age five,” I said quietly. There was a pause, and then Lisa started to cry. 

“I HATE you,” she said tearfully, and I immediately regretted letting my anger get the best of me. 

“Lisa, wait-” I began. Then she hung up on me. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks for reading.


	5. Catwoman

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The plot thickens.

I returned from my tour with three shopping bags full of cat memorabilia and a burning curiosity as to why LexCorp had so many restricted floors. I mean, I had known that he was a supervillain already, but seeing just how many things Luthor was hiding made me determined to find out more about what the man was really up to-and, since I was working for him, I had the perfect opportunity to snoop around at night. When I went into my “room”, I found a rose, a box of chocolate, and a card. I opened the card and discovered that my admirer was, unsurprisingly enough, the not-so-good Captain, as it had been signed, “ Sincereely, Captan Cold”.  It was so….well, earnest perhaps isn’t the right word, but at least hopeful, that it was pathetic, and I decided to pay him a visit to gently remind him of the fact that I wasn’t interested in him. I left my room, locked the door behind me (you can never be too careful), and knocked on his door. He opened it a few seconds later, and I noticed that his eyes were red, almost as though he had been crying, and that he had an expression on his face that strongly suggested that he was trying to cover it up. He was also holding his cold gun, and so I decided that now was probably not the best time to tell him that I thought he was pathetic and annoying. I knew I wouldn’t get a straight answer if I directly asked him what was wrong, so I decided to be more subtle. 

“Allergies?” I asked. He nodded a bit too eagerly, and then said,

“I have a team of idiots.” I looked at him in confusion.

“How so?” I asked. He sighed.

“I left Mirror Master-Sam Scudder, not Evan McCulloch-in charge, and in the fourteen and a half hours since I’ve been gone, my sister Lisa, the Golden Glider, and her boyfriend, the Top, spent all my money for the plumbing bill on a restaurant, Heat Wave and Captain Boomerang got into a fist fight that resulted in them both being injured and the living room being destroyed, Trickster annoyed the Weather Wizard enough to get him to chase him around the house, and McCulloch got back on cocaine,” he explained. I don’t know the Rogues very well, but I know enough about them that this news didn’t surprise me much. 

“That sounds unpleasant. Did anything else happen?” I asked sympathetically. (Being the protector of an oftentimes dysfunctional group of runaways, I have had plenty of experience of leaving someone in charge only for everything to collapse ten minutes after I disappear.) 

“Yeah. I told Scudder to tell everyone else that I was going to use their cuts of our next heists to pay for the utilities and whatnot, and five minutes later my sister called me to complain, and we got into an argument and we both got really angry and threw insults at each other, and then I basically told her that I wished she’d never been born and she told me that she hated me and hung up on me,” he explained.

“Does that happen often?” I asked, fairly sure I knew the answer (in part from personal experience). 

“Never. I’ practically worship the ground she walks on,” he said. 

“Because you’re more her father than her brother?” I asked. 

‘How’d you guess that?” 

‘Because that’s how I feel about my little sister, Magdalena, and my little brother, Karl. I raised them until I was ten. After our parents died, we all went into foster care. They got adopted, and I didn’t. I was already too old and too hard for anybody to want. Their adoptive family were good people and very Catholic, so Maggie became a nun. Karl’s an accountant, I think. I still watch out for them, though,” I replied. Cold laughed.

“So you’re a thief, and your sister is a NUN? And I thought it was weird when I was a two-bit thug and my sister was a famous figure skater,” he said. 

“At least I have a connection to Heaven,” I joked. Before our conversation could continue further, however, Mercy walked into the room.

“Mr. Luthor requests that you join him in his office,” she said. We followed her to the elevator and got off on the hundredth floor, then entered Luthorś office.

“I have a mission for you two. You will go to the Superman museum in downtown Metropolis, steal Brainiac’s pistol, which is on display there, and attract as much attention as possible,” he said. 

“What kind of stupid idea is that?” Cold blurted out. (I thought the idea was just as foolish as he did, but I knew enough to keep that to myself.) 

“Rest assured, Mr. Snart, I will have everything completely under control. All you need to do is follow my orders,” Luthor replied. Cold looked like he was going to open his mouth again, so I elbowed him in the side and whispered,

“Look, I know you don’t like this idea. I don’t like it either. But if we don’t do what he says, we don’t get paid and we’re broke again. So keep your mouth shut, will you?” He nodded, and, twenty minutes later, the two of us were in costume and on our merry way to the museum. 

“This is gonna destroy my reputation. Sure, I ain’t the most subtle of guys, but I don’t go outta my way to attract attention most of the time. That’s an amateur move,’ Cold whined as we slipped through what passes for a back alley in Metropolis. 

‘YOUR reputation? I’M a cat burglar. My speciality is never getting caught. Having to deliberately attract attention to myself makes me feel ill,” I replied as I broke into a jog. The sooner I got this farce done with, the better. Of course, only about a minute after, Cold asked, 

“Uh, Miss Kyle, would you mind slowing down? I ain’t got your agility.” I sighed and slowed my pace back to a rapid walk.

“I expected a man who fights the Flash to be in better shape,” I snapped irritatedly. He shrugged apologetically and explained,

“It’s not like I race the guy. Most of the time, I just point, shoot, and dodge. I’ve got good reflexes-I don’t think anyone but McCulloch’s ever outdrawn me- but I’m not a sprinter.” 

‘You’ve got a point. So, as long as we’re walking, why don’t we come up with a plan for just how we’re going to make a scene without actually getting caught?” I replied. 

“If we were just gonna be facing security guards, we’d be fine, but if both of us are reported at a museum, at least one cape will definitely show, and then we’ll be in trouble,” Cold said. 

“What’s a cape?” I asked. 

“Central slum slang for a superhero,” he replied. 

“Huh. In Gotham we call them Cowls. But anyway, do you have any idea as to what to do when the hero inevitably arrives?” I said. 

“Hope it ain’t Batman?” Cold replied. I smirked, amused that he was so afraid of the man that I’ve kissed more than once. Then an idea hit me. 

“I’ve got it! I know how we’ll get away!” I exclaimed. 

“How?” he asked. I smirked wider. 

“Oh, you’ll see.” We arrived at the museum about five minutes later and I mentally prepared myself for how stupid I was going to look. I threw open the museum doors and strutted forward with my best supermodel imitation. Cold followed me, firing his cold gun in the air once to make a point as I grabbed a microphone from a tour guide and started hamming it up. 

“Greetings, people of Metropolis. It’s purr-fectly nice to meet you all. I’m Catwoman, Gotham City’s finest thief, and my partner here is Captain Cold, the leader of Central City’s Rogues. I know that you probably think that means he’s a backwater hick, but trust me, he’s as cold-hearted as they come. Now, if you’ll excuse us, we’ll be stealing a little trinket from this museum,” I said, exaggerating my “sophisticated Gothamite” accent as much as possible. Then Cold grabbed the microphone and added,

“Keep outta our way if you know what’s good for you.” I noted that he was exaggerating his already dorky-sounding Central City slums accent and had to try hard not to laugh. As soon as he finished his announcement, the people in the museum started screaming and running for the exit. Cold and I ignored them and headed for the “Alien Science” wing of the museum Predictably enough, ten seconds after we had liberated the device from its cage, the alarms blared and, right on target, Superman, Batman, and the Flash showed up. 

“I hope you know what you’re doing, Miss Kyle,” Cold whispered. 

“Don’t worry. I’ve got this,” I whispered back. 

“You’d better,” Cold muttered. With that, I turned to the heroes. 

“All this for little old me? Why, Batman, I’m flattered,” I purred 

“Robbing a museum in broad daylight? That isn’t your style, Selina,” Batman said. 

“I felt it was time for a change of pace,” I replied. Batman scowled as Flash turned to Cold and asked

“What are you doing so far away from Central City? You never leave your so-called turf.” Before Cold could answer, I smiled at the speedster and replied,

“The same reason I’m accompanying him on a heist in the daylight-we’re in love,” I said in my mooniest voice, working hard not to gag. Before anyone could react, I grabbed the not-so-good Captain and kissed him as passionately as I could without making myself ill. While the three heroes were gaping, I threw a smoke bomb, Cold fired his cold gun at the Flash, and we ran away from the museum at breakneck speed, making sure to take as many alleys as possible as we ran. We arrived at LexCorp in an impressive ten minutes flat and were greeted by Mercy, who took us to Luthor. 

“Excellent work,” he said cooly as I handed him the laser pistol. 

“I think we’ve earned our paycheck for today,” I said calmly. 

“You certainly have, and you are dismissed,” Luthor replied. With that, I left his office and headed for one of the floors that I had been unable to access during my “tour”. I was so eager to start investigating, in fact, that I failed to notice that I was being followed until Cold said,

“What are we doing on this floor, Miss Kyle?” I spun around and scowled at him.

“Why are you following me?” I demanded angrily. A dopey smile spread across his face. 

“Because I like you, Miss Kyle. We make a good team,” he replied. I sighed. 

“If this is about that kiss from earlier, that was just an act. I’m not interested in you,” I said bluntly. His face fell slightly, but he didn’t leave, much to my annoyance. 

“I wasn’t makin’ a pass at you, ma’am, just making an observation. We do make a good team,” he insisted. I shook my head. As annoying as the guy was, I had to admit that he had a point-and keeping him around as a potential distraction might be useful, especially if I wanted to outsmart Luthor. Therefore, I smiled and said,

“Fine. If you want to help out, you can-but our relationship is strictly professional. Got it?” He grinned sheepishly. 

“Got it. So, what are you looking for, ma’am?” he asked. Normally, I trust other villains about as far as I can throw them, but Cold was so taken by me that I knew he wouldn’t betray me (at least until he was sure that he couldn’t woo me). It was safe to tell him.

“This floor is the most restricted floor in the whole building. When I toured the building as Selina Kyle, they wouldn’t even let me off the elevator, which means Luthor has to be hiding something big-and I want to know what,” I explained. 

“Are you sure that’s a good idea, Miss Kyle? I mean, you know what they say about curiosity and cats,” Cold asked. 

“Yes, I’m sure. But if you’re too much of a scaredy-cat to come along, you can leave,” I replied. 

“No way, If you’re going, I’m going too,” Cold replied. 

“Then letś move….and keep quiet!” I whispered. With that, we left the elevator, snuck past the guards, and slipped inside the office which I had not been allowed to enter that morning. Cold relocked the door behind us, and we found ourselves surrounded by computer terminals. I smiled.

“I’ll bet these are Luthor’s secret files,’ I said happily. I walked over to one of them and started hacking into it. After about five minutes, I succeeded (Luthor really should have used something more original than “deadSuperman” for his password) and the screens lit up. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks for reading!


	6. Captain Cold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a reason nobody crosses Lex Luthor.

I gotta admit, I was real impressed by Catwoman’s hacking skills. Piper’s easily the best hacker we have, and even he’d never gotten into a computer that fast.

“How’d you get in so fast?” I asked. Catwoman smirked. 

“:Luthor shouldn’t have made his password “deadSuperman”,” she explained. 

“That was seriously his password? That’d be like me making my password “Freeze” or “Down with the Flash” or something.” I said incredulously. 

“Well, Luthor may be smart, but he’s also overconfident. He probably didn’t think anyone would be able to get in here,” she replied. With that, she started looking through his files. 

“Let’s see….boring, boring, boring, creepy, boring, boring...how many files on tax evasion does he have?.....boring, boring, I don’t care about stocks or bonds right now, boring, boring….ooh, this looks interesting!”

“What does?” I asked. 

“It’s a file about the little group he hired us to be a part of. This is probably his master plan!” she said.. 

“Then let’s see it!” I exclaimed. She opened the file-and then gasped in horror. 

‘Cold...do you…..do you see that?” she asked. 

“Yeah,” I muttered, equally in shock. The file contained pictures of Gotham City, Coast City, and Central City, all with what appeared to be bombs placed under them. 

“If the superheroes don’t surrender to Luthor, he’ll detonate bombs that were constructed by Ra’s al Ghul,” Catwoman said. 

“Who is that guy, anyhow? I never saw him before,” I asked. 

“Ra’s al Ghul is one of Batman’s most dangerous foes. He wants to destroy most of the world in order to create his version of a paradise. He must have joined up with Luthor because Luthor promised him he’d get to destroy a corrupt city or two as long as he left Metropolis alone,” Catwoman explained. 

“Why that no-good, double-crossing creep! Nobody puts my city’s life on the line like that!” I exclaimed.

“Luckily, the bombs haven’t been set yet, but Luthor was planning to use us as a distraction while he was setting the bombs! Our heist from earlier was a test run to make sure that we would be able to pull it off...and that’s why he wanted us to attract attention to ourselves,” Catwoman said. 

“Well, well, well. What do we have here?” I spun around and found myself face-to-face with Luthor’s bald, ugly mug. I pulled out my cold gun and pointed it at him. 

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t ice you right now,” I said angrily.

“Because the moment my body temperature drops so much as half a degree, it will set off an alarm that will alert two hundred heavily armed guards to your location. Now, I don’t doubt that you might be able to incapacitate one or two or even twelve of them, but even you can’t fight your way through two hundred men, and eventually one of them will shoot you down,” Luthor replied calmly, and I lowered my gun. I hated Luthor, but not enough to risk my life to shoot him. Catwoman had pulled out her whip by the time Luthor had finished talking, but before she could use it, Luthor said,

“Miss Kyle, drawing any of my blood will achieve the same result.” Catwoman scowled at him and secured her whip to her belt again. 

“I knew you were a pompous creep, Luthor, but this? This is a new low, even for you. Are you seriously willing to kill millions of little children to satisfy your own bloated ego?” she asked him. 

“I am doing nothing of the sort, Miss Kyle. I know the alien well. He and his compatriots would gladly surrender to me rather than see one so-called “innocent” harmed, so the children are in no danger. Besides, even if the alien should show his true colors and let them die rather than admit defeat, nothing of value would be lost. Your Gotham City is corrupt beyond the core, and Central City is stupid, poor, and complacent. Destroying them would simply be putting the unfit out of their misery, making room for the strong and adaptable,” Luthor replied. I scowled. 

“You callin’ us garbage, Luthor?” I snarled. 

“Genetically speaking, yes,” Luthor replied. 

“In that case, we quit,” Catwoman said. 

“Yeah. I need money as much as the next guy, but even I ain’t willing to put my city on the line just to get some cash,” I added. 

“As you wish. It’s too bad, though. Sister Magdalena is such a charming young woman, and Miss Snart, although lacking in a certain refinement, is quite spirited. I will so hate to have to provide for their being buried in state,” Luthor replied. Catwoman went pale, and my stomach churned. 

“H-how did you…” I began. 

“Mr. Snart, I keep track of the associates of everyone who works for me. As soon as Mercy saw the two of you headed for a quarantined part of the building, I had my men take both of them into my custody. I couldn’t risk the two of you getting cold feet and contacting the Justice League,” Luthor explained. 

“Let Magdalena go, Luthor. She has nothing to do with this. We haven’t even talked in six months,” Catwoman said. She was trying to sound threatening, but it was pretty clear that she was terrified (like I was, to be honest.) Luthor smiled. 

“Miss Kyle, she will not be hurt unless you refuse to cooperate. Now be a good little girl and pretend that you never saw any of this….sensitive information,” he said. 

“Luthor, if you hurt a hair on my sister’s head, I’ll kill you,” I snarled. 

“Now, now, Mr. Snart, is that any way to talk to a man who holds your sister’s life in his hands?” I scowled, but had to admit that he had a point. As much as I hated it, the creep had found the one surefire way to make me do what he wanted. 

“If we cooperate with you, will you let them go?” Catwoman asked. Luthor smiled. 

“Of course...as soon as we’ve taken out the Justice League.” At her (and probably my) face, he laughed. 

“Did you really think that I would let them go just because you promised to cooperate? As soon as you knew that they were out of my grasp, one or the other of you-probably Catwoman, unless I miss my guess-would call the JLA and put the whole plan at risk.” While Luthor was monologuing, I remembered something: namely, the fact that I’m not the only Rogue who’d have an interest in keeping Lisa safe, which in turn made me laugh.

“Luthor, I hope you’ve got your will made out, ‘cause as smart as you think you are, you’ve forgotten something important: Lisa ain’t just my sister,” I said. 

“Believe me, Mr. Snart, my guards are more than equipped to deal with a figure skater, even one as talented and ruthless as your sister. She may be a supervillain, but she’s only human, and a small human woman cannot hope to take out two dozen well-trained men,” Luthor said. I just smirked. 

“That ain’t it. See, what you apparently don’t know is that my sister’s got a boyfriend, and, as much as I hate the guy, I know that he’s a lot more than just “human”. You might’ve heard of the guy. He calls himself the Top. I hope you’re ready to have a really angry telekinetic with low-level superspeed and high-level explosives coming after you, Luthor, ‘cause now you’ve got one.” I was feeling pretty good about our chances of getting away from the bald wonder...and then Luthor smugly pulled up a video feed from somewhere else in the building, one that showed a nun (guess she was Miss Kyle’s sister), who seemed to be praying, my sister, who was furiously trying to break free from the cuffs she was in, and what I thought was a dead body at first but on closer inspection turned out to be an alive, but heavily wounded, Top.

“Aaah, then that identifies her mystery companion. If his powers are truly as formidable as you describe, there’s no wonder he took out five of the guards who ambushed him and your sister. Of course, the element of surprise and the advantage of numbers enabled them to shoot him down eventually, but the fact that he’s a metahuman made him a formidable foe.” On the one hand, I’ve never liked Dillon, so the idea that he might be dying didn’t upset me too much. On the other hand, I knew Lisa loved him (why, I’ll never understand), and his death would make her really upset, and I didn’t want that to happen. This was bad. 

“Would you happen to have any other secret weapons up your sleeve?” Miss Kyle asked. I just shook my head. Under the circumstances, with Dillon out of the picture, we were pretty much stuck, and I distinctly remember wondering what the  **Clark insisted that I censor this-Batman** we were gonna do now. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks for reading! I will update again soon!


	7. Catwoman

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Catwoman outwits Luthor...just not in the way she planned.

Catwoman: Since it was pretty clear that Cold’s back-up plan had fallen through, I decided to fall back on a trick that would make me feel even more ill than pretending to be in love with Cold had: appealing to Luthor’s enormous ego.. 

“Surely a handsome, intelligent man like you could come up with a better way to keep us in line than holding our loved ones hostage. That’s for unimaginative thugs and psychopaths like the Joker. I can think of a few other ways you could convince me to play along, darling, so I know you can,” I purred. Luthor shook his head. 

“I don’t think so, Miss Kyle. I find that the simple methods are often the best ones. And, as you say, I am unusually clever. I am strong enough to resist your not inconsiderable charms, even if your bumbling partner is not,” Luthor said. I swore internally. Most men are so flattered by my attention that they become putty in my hands the second I act like I have so much as a hint of interest in them. Would it really have been so difficult for Luthor to have fallen for it? As I tried desperately to come up with another way to rescue our respective sisters, the lighting in the room grew dimmer and dimmer. 

“Holding family members hostage? Why, Mr. Luthor...I’m disappointed in you. I thought you were more civilized,” a voice said as its owner quite literally stepped out of the shadows. It was Dickie Swift, holding the tiny kitten I had found in my room. 

“Shade? What are you doing here?” Luthor demanded. 

“Trying to relieve my ennui, Mr. Luthor. I was traveling through your building, hoping to find something interesting, when I heard the cries of this kitten. Since its cries were emanating from the room you assigned to Ms. Kyle, I found it odd that a cat lover such as herself would have left a kitten alone and determined that, since she had, she must have stumbled upon something worth seeing. With that in mind, I started to search for her in the hopes that whatever she was looking for might relieve my boredom...and it is a good thing that I did. Not only have I stumbled upon something quite interesting indeed, but I will also be able to prevent the admirable Ms. Kyle and her rather dimwitted partner from suffering a grave injustice,” Swift replied. He gave a slight twirl of his cane, and suddenly, darkness filled the room where my sister was being held. When it finally cleared, my sister, the Golden Glider, and the Top had vanished. Then Dickie Swift turned to me. 

“I have had my shadows take your loved ones to the Dark Dimension. It is not a pleasant place, I am afraid, but they will come to no harm there, and they are out of Mr. Luthor’s grasp,” he said. Luthor scowled. 

“You’ve made a very bad enemy, Mr. Swift,” he said angrily, Dickie Swift chuckled, a sound that was enough to send a shiver down my spine. Some people just really shouldn’t laugh. 

“I have had many “bad enemies”, Mr. Luthor, and I have outlived them all. You will be no different.” Then he turned back to me.

“I will transport your loved ones to a safe location outside of the Dark Dimension. It is your move, Ms. Kyle,” he said. With that, he disappeared into the shadows. In response, Cold and I exchanged a glance and then jumped into action. Cold aimed his gun at the door and froze it solid as I ran to the computer. Luthor, who was by now very unhappy, grabbed me from behind, but before he could do anything, Cold froze him as well, setting off the alarm Luthor had mentioned earlier. 

“Didn’t you hear him say that freezing him would alert his guards?” I asked. 

“Yeah. Why do you think I froze the door first? Besides, it was totally worth it to ice that smug, pompous creep.” 

“That might keep them out long enough for us to contact the Justice League or whoever, but it’s also the only exit. Even if they don’t break in, when we’re done, we’ll have to leave that way, and they’ll cut us off,” I replied. 

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get there, Ms. Kyle. Right now, we need to save our cities,” Cold said. While I was still frustrated by the fact that Cold’s actions had sent a bunch of guards after us, I knew he was right. If I wanted to save the East End, we needed to call in the Justice League. I used the computer to send a message to their headquarters, and, a few seconds later, the Flash’s face appeared on the monitor. He looked as though he was about to say something, but I cut him off. 

“Look, Flash, I know you’re probably pretty miffed at that stunt Cold and I pulled earlier, but there’s no time. Ra’s al Ghul and Lex Luthor have teamed up to take you guys out. They’ve put bombs under Gotham and Central and a few other cities, and they’re planning to blow them up if you won’t surrender to them. You have to come to LexCorp HQ and find a way to disable the bombs.” Flash looked alarmed. 

“We’ll be on our way,” he said. About ten seconds later, a red blur appeared in the room with us and solidified into a grown man wearing red pajamas.

“Hey, Flash,” Cold said. 

“Snart? What are you doing here?” Flash asked. 

“What, you really think I’d let Luthor blow up the Combines, my Rogues, a bunch of little kids, and my favorite hot dog stand for the sake of some cash?” 

“Fair enough. All right, where are the plans?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks for reading.


End file.
